


Pleasant Conversation

by AuroraNova



Series: Ties That Bind [5]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak is pleasantly surprised when Dax drops in for a visit, not an interrogation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleasant Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> I'm jumping ahead in the series chronology, but here's the first G/B tale. Set late season 3, after "The Die is Cast." 
> 
> Standard disclaimer that I don't own anything herein and am not making any money.

Bolian velvet was miserable fabric and Garak was relieved to be done with it. He was going to have to increase his price on future Bolian velvet garments, both to discourage customers from ordering it and to fairly compensate himself for the work. If the velvet wasn’t stitched at precisely the correct angle the entire hemline was a disaster which he certainly couldn’t allow paraded around as an example of his handiwork. He wasn’t even going to bother saving the scraps.

The doors began to open. Excellent. A customer would be a welcome change of pace. Particularly when that customer was the intriguing Lieutenant Dax, who was not only a pleasure to clothe but a fascinating personality. Though Garak found the idea of his memories living on horrifying – some secrets were meant to die with a person, after all – he granted that it made for an interesting perspective on life.

“Lieutenant, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She looked around his shop. “No other customers?”

“Not presently.”

“Julian told me the two of you are dating.”

“So you’ve come to inquire as to my intentions? Threaten me with harm should I cause the good doctor pain?”

Dax gave an amused little smile where he supposed anyone else would have been defensive. “No. Julian is a grown man capable of choosing his own company.”

“Perhaps you’re in need of a new outfit?” She appreciated the value of well-made clothing more than most Starfleet personnel, and he had recently received a shipment of double-woven Betazoid silk in a shade of green which would look quite lovely on Dax.

“Not particularly. May I sit?”

“Of course.”

“Julian is a dear friend. I thought I should come meet the person he’s seeing, outside of a purely business context.”

How delightfully unexpected. His estimation of Lieutenant Dax rose once again.

“You were at the Andorian string concert last week, weren’t you?” she asked.

“Yes. I found the second half vastly superior to the first.”

“I preferred the first myself.”

He presented her with an expression of distaste. “It lacked any semblance of nuance.”

“It didn’t if your hearing range is closer to Andorian.”

“Should I infer from that comment that yours is?” He’d never had occasion to learn about Trill biology.

“It doesn’t extend to the highest frequencies Andorians hear, but Trill hearing is capable of catching a higher range than human, and from what I understand Cardassians have a lower auditory range than humans. So I think it’s safe to say you missed the nuances due to biology.”

“I’ve always found it difficult to argue with biology,” he informed her, which was even true.

“It is, but that doesn’t stop a lot of people from trying. You’d probably be able to appreciate Tellarite music more.”

Garak had once had the misfortune to hear Tellarite ballads and hoped never to repeat the experience, but he wasn’t inclined to admit that to Dax, so he simply said, “I’ll keep that in mind should the station receive a visit from Tellarite musicians.”

As Dax initiated the conversation Garak felt obligated to continue it in order to show that he appreciated her effort. He considered several potential topics before deciding on one he felt was safe. “I have an interest in words, Lieutenant. Perhaps you would allow me a few questions on the Trill language.”

“I’m no linguist, but I’ll do my best.”

“Oh, you needn’t be a specialist. I understand that a small percentage of Trill are joined, as you are, and I am simply curious how that impacts your language.”

“That I can answer,” she said, and didn’t look at all perturbed by the inquiry. “As you might guess, we have more than one form of ‘I.’”

“It seemed a logical expectation, but one never knows.” Assumptions had a nasty habit of turning into fatal errors.

“True. We have a word that translates fairly exactly to ‘I,’ but we have other forms that joined Trill use. To translate roughly, ‘I-who-was’ refers to previous hosts, and there’s also a form that refers to the present host before joining. ‘I-who-will-be’ isn’t used as frequently, but we do have the word to refer to future hosts, in addition to present tense forms of ‘I’ for both symbiont and host.”

The last part confused him slightly. This business of a joined species was complex and he couldn’t hope to understand in a single conversation, but he might yet glean a bit more insight. “I was under the impression that you are a single entity, if you will, formed from two distinct parts. Why would that require different words?”

“I can’t very well say that I can feel myself wiggle in my abdominal pouch, can I?” she replied, laughter in her voice. Lieutenant Dax was a very joyful woman.

“Are there corresponding forms of the personal possessive?”

“We make words possessive with suffixes, but yes, there are different suffixes as well, for both first, second, and third person. So if I mentioned ‘my children’ in Trill with the suffix ‘hal’ it would be instantly understood that I’m talking about the children of a previous host.”

“I suppose that could spare much confusion.”

“It requires less explanation than Standard. I often find it easier just to say ‘Audrid’s children.’”

“Do you find that Federation Standard is insufficient to make yourself understood?”

“Once in a while, yes, but I’m used to it. It’s not something I have to think about anymore.”

“Fascinating. I appreciate your indulgence on this matter.” He always enjoyed a bit of intelligent conversation.

Dax favored him with a smile. “I’m used to questions about being joined, but you’re the first person to ask about pronouns.” She stood. “I’m meeting Kira soon, but it’s been a pleasure speaking with you, Garak.”

“Likewise, Lieutenant.”

He would not be averse to further conversations with Lieutenant Dax, he decided. It was always pleasant to speak to someone who didn’t regard him with suspicion the entire time, and Dax had just brought the total number of individuals on the station willing to speak thus to three. Although Quark was rarely a good conversationalist.

Moreover, she was (shockingly) quite accepting of his budding relationship with Bashir. Garak wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating Dax again. It was good to know that, Chief O’Brien notwithstanding, Bashir did have respectable taste in friends.

* * *

Dax returned to his shop the following week, padd in hand. “Have you heard of Camelot?”

The word sounded quite similar to a Cardassian curse but he doubted she meant that. “I haven’t.”

“Camelot is the location of King Arthur’s court in the Earth legend. Elaborate feasts, noble knights, chivalry…”

“Sounds Klingon.”

She laughed. “Maybe that’s why I like it so much.”

Garak couldn’t fathom the appeal Klingons held for Dax or anyone else, but it was bad business to mention such things.

“I have a new Camelot holosuite program and I need a costume. The replicators won’t do it justice, so I brought some images. I’m hoping you can design me something.”

He scrolled through the images on her padd. “May I download these?”

“Of course.”

The costume would be elaborate, and what peculiar headgear. Well, he did enjoy a challenge. “It will take me several days to create a design.”

“You know how to contact me.”

“Do you have a price range in mind?”

“I imagine this won’t be the cheapest costume, but I didn’t have a specific number in mind. Less than two bars of latinum, maybe?”

Either Dax had once again bested the station’s Ferengi population at tongo or Starfleet paid its lieutenants more than Garak had been led to believe. He considered the former more likely, as he’d overheard Quark’s employees grumble on more than one occasion that it was undignified to lose to a female alien. One of them insisted it had to be the influence of past male hosts that made Dax a skilled tongo player.

“I’m certain I can create something for less than a bar and four strips.”

“Great.”

As she turned to leave Garak debated asking her a question regarding the doctor’s upbringing. He generally did not find admitting that he lacked all relevant facts to be advantageous, but there were exceptions. Admitting a small weakness could garner considerable trust. Moreover, he was truly baffled by what Bashir had told him and his research had yielded less than adequate results. It would not do to lose the doctor’s affection as Garak, against all training and common sense, returned the affection; therefore he required more information to ensure he did not inadvertently drive Bashir away. Humans, after all, were notoriously fickle creatures.

“Lieutenant.”

Dax turned back. “Yes?”

“Dr. Bashir told me that he’s discussed his upbringing with you.”

“He has,” she replied, intelligent enough to be wary.

Garak chose his words with extra care. “Cardassians are less likely to be… involved with another of our own gender than what I have observed among humans, and yet we do not have a revulsion such as he described. Is it common in the Federation?”

“More common than it should be. I can’t give you an exact percentage, which would vary world to world anyway, but there are pockets of reactionary and ultra-conservative people all over the Federation. Many of them identify with what they consider a ‘pure’ form of one religion or another, though certainly not all. The population of Katcheti Delta’s primary moon, for instance, is known for being agnostic but extremely reactionary in every way imaginable.”

“The station database is not particularly helpful on the topic,” he ventured. At least, not the segments he had access to, and while he was fully capable of hacking the station computers without incriminating himself, he hesitated to do so. Odo didn’t need proof to suspect Garak, who didn’t want the constable to wonder about his interest in this topic.

“No, it isn’t. I did some research when Julian told me. Would you like me to send you a few articles?”

“I would appreciate it sincerely.” That was no less than complete honesty.

Garak could feel the assessment in Dax’s gaze before she said, very quietly, “I’m not in the habit of giving unsolicited advice, you know.”

“I imagine you have experience enough to know it is seldom welcomed.” Would she understand that he’d given her permission with that statement?

“I know you like your secrets, Garak, and that’s fine, but in this case…” she trailed off for a moment, then looked him precisely in the eyes. “Let’s just say that odds are good that anyone with Julian’s history would interpret a desire for secrecy about your relationship as shame.”

That was an _extremely_ valuable insight. He’d make certain Dax’s new costume was among his best work. “He is very fortunate to have a friend such as yourself. I thank you for this pertinent information.”

Curses, sooner or later Bashir was going to insist on telling that buffoon O’Brien, and now Garak was going to have to agree after a token protest. It was preferable to losing the doctor’s affections, but not at all desirable. O’Brien wouldn’t be nearly as agreeable as Dax about the relationship.

“I look forward to seeing your design,” she said before exiting his shop.

Well, well. It appeared Dax was making a habit of surprising him.


End file.
